Hetalia Drabble Dump
by Jo31891
Summary: Basically, what I like to call where fanfic authors put drabbles for one fandom or one pairing. This is my Hetalia drabble dump Will include: GerIta, PruCan, RusCan, Spamano, USK, SuFin, Giripan and a little HRECHI. Warning: Genderbending and yaoi.
1. Russia & Canada: Matryoshkas

Russia & Canada: Matryoshkas

"Oi, Mattie. You got another one'o them packages."

Matthew looked up from his book to see his brother standing in the doorway of his room, a small brown box in his hand. The tall boy lunged from his bed, tripping over a stack of hockey magazines as he dashed toward the other. Arms encircled the little brown package and drew it close to a chest.

"Geez, dude. You'd think there were hamburgers in that thing or something." Alfred muttered. "Whatever. Have your Commie package." The younger's lip jutted out in a sulky pout as he abandoned Matthew's doorway.

Not even close, Matthew thought as his cheeks flushed a healthy pink. Shuffling around the piles of magazines and towers of books, the blond youth made his way back to his bed. Plopping down into the soft red bed, the boy folded his long legs and rested the package in his lap. He leaned over to the side table and grabbed the utility knife from the small drawer. He carefully sliced open the mailing tap, freeing the flaps of the box. As he unfurled them, packing peanuts began to overflow onto the mattress. Hands delving, he began to dig about in the form nuts until his fingers wrapped around a soft solid object.

The blond draw his hands out, pulling the object with him. Matthew shoved the box off the bed, sending the packing peanuts spraying across the floor. The small item cradled in his hands was wrapped in a thick layer of soft foam, serving as the final protective barrier. He released the tape on the foam and unwrapped the round object until he felt smooth finish.

It was perfectly rounded and curved, the surface glimmering in the light. The light caramel color of the wood shown around the green and golden paint. He could see the lines of the brush strokes as he admired the beautifully painting stem, leaves and partly opened sunflower peeking through. He carefully leaned over his bed once more and lifted the smaller, nearly identical item from the table. He placed it in his lap before focusing to the new addition once more. A hand wrapped about the head and base of the round object, he gingerly tugged the two halves apart. He slipped the smaller one inside and replaced the top half.

A perfect fit.

Matthew rolled the doll in his hands, admiring the craftsmanship. One the bottom were two letters – **IB** – burned along with the year. Smiling the boy brought the treasure to his chest. He kissed the head of the doll, just about the sunflower bud.

Just a few more pieces and his handmade nesting doll would be complete.

Then, he could see his Russian again.

* * *

**Disclaimer: I own nothing**


	2. Greece & Japan: Sleeping Beauty

Greece & Japan: Sleeping Beauty

Greece – Heracles

Japan – Kiku

Kiku drew in a deep breath, preparing himself for what lay ahead. He was to face life or death, truly. He had to be prepared for the worst when he entered the room. Muscles tense, heart racing, the small male's brow drew inward. He was determined to succeed unharmed, or at least in one piece.

He wrapped his slim fingers about the handle and pressed, giving just enough pressure to release the latch without a sound. The hinges barely whispered as he slid it open and stepped within the room. Brown eyes scanned the room, memorizing the layout. He allowed the door to settle against the wall, not willing to allow his only escape route to be blocked. He was no coward, certainly. But sometimes the bravest thing is to retreat.

Silent feet dodged furniture and fur as he slunk across the room. The far window was open, sending in a breeze that did little to relieve the summer heat on his skin. White fabric curtains fluttered in the breeze, beckoning him closer to his goal. Daring him to risk his life and dignity for the sake of his rather insufficient motive.

He hesitated. Was this truly worth it? Was it truly worth the anxiety? Did he really want to risk everything he was for this?

But, he'd come so far already.

His resolved reaffirmed, Kiku stepped forward once more.

He lifted his hand, voice in his throat ready to fall from his lips.

"Heracles-san." Kiku whispered as he gently laid a hand upon the sleeping man's shoulder. When the tall olive skinned Grecian did not even twitch, the smaller gave the shoulder a gentle shake. "Heracles-san." He tried once more, raising his volume ever so slightly.

There was no reaction to his attempts, as he had expected. The brunette was always so difficult to wake.

Giri-chan, one of Kiku's favorite cats, purred as he rubbed against Kiku's legs. The feline meowed lazily, wanting attention as the Japanese male tried to rouse the cat's master. The raven haired man carefully reached down and scooped the brown feline up and cradled him to his chest.

"Heracles-san. It's time to eat. Heracles-san." Kiku tried once more, patting the man's firm abdomen. Cheeks pink, brown eyes scanned the firm muscles beneath his fingers. He stroked the moist olive skin with his thumb. Heracles was napping without a shirt again. He'd catch a cold.

Giri-chan meowed loudly, bringing Kiku back to his senses. Blushing, he drew his hand back. "Oh dear." He whispered. How on earth was he to wake the other? The food would be cold soon.

The brunette was truly a vision though, sleeping comfortably on white silks. Kiku felt his heart fluttered as he adjusted the plump cat in his arms. His skin shimmered with sweat, his lips pale and thin, though soft looking. Wavy curls tumbled over his cheekbones. He looked like he was carved of marble. Motionless beauty, asleep for eternity.

"Perhaps…he is like Sleeping Beauty?" the raven haired youth muttered. He brought his free hand to his mouth, tapping his own pale pink lips. Maybe…maybe…

Kiku released Giri-chan, the brown cat lazily landing on his feet. The human drew in a shaky breath, placing his hand on the far side of the sleeping man's head. Gulping, he leaned forward until strands of raven hair tickled olive skin.

Maybe…just one…

A hand lifted, cradling the back of raven hair and pushed. Lips met hot lips.

Kiku squeaked as those hot lips pressed against his, gentle and lazy like the summer day. He shyly returned the affection, pressing his own lips into the kiss.

Half-lidded hazel-green eyes peered up into dark brown.

Kiku's face became brilliant red and he was reduced to stuttering and stammering words. Heracles smiled, wrapping his long arms about the smaller male. He rolled over, pulling the Japanese male onto the mattress with him.

"Good afternoon, prince." Heracles whispered against raven locks, holding the other close.

Blushing, Kiku grunted and relaxed against the hot bare chest.

"Sleeping Beauty indeed."

**Disclaimer: I Own Nothing.**

02/24/2011


	3. Prussia & Canada: Almost Awesome

Prussia & Canada: Almost Awesome

Prussia – Gilbert

Fem!Canada – Mattea (Mattie)

It was the same thing every time. She sat in the same chair on the same floor of the library at the same time every Friday. Most of the time she was reading. It was usually a thick, leather bound book with the title on the spin. Usually it was in English. But sometimes it was in French. Sometimes – and the most awesome of times – she read German. German seemed to take her a bit longer but she never gave up on it.

Gilbert gulped, his body pressed flush to a shelf of books. It was the only barrier left between him and the beautiful blond. Usually he would sit at a nearby table, pretending to be doing homework. But not today. No, today was the day. The day he, the Most Awesome Gilbert, would walk up to the girl with the cute blond pigrails and ask for her name. Today was the day he'd sit beside her and ask about her book. Today was the day he would finally make his move!

"Mattie!"

Long think arms wrapped around the girl's shoulders from behind. Dark blue eyes lifted as lips pressed against her crown. She smiled up at the burly man. The huge Russian giggled as pink dusted her cheeks. "Are you ready to go, мой подсолнечник?"

Gilbert felt his jaw drop and his heart shatter.

That…blasted…COMMIE!

**Disclaimer: I own nothing**

**мой подсолнечник – my sunflower**

**02/25/2011**


	4. Russia & Canada: Beauty and the Beast

Russia & Canada: Beauty and the Beast

Russia – Ivan

Canada – Matthew

Matthew felt a chill settle over his slim figure. The castle was dark, shadows clinging to the walls and gables. The halls were empty of life, not a portrait or sculpture decorating the place. His feet barely made a sound on the cold stone floor as he made his way along the corridor. He had heard neither a voice nor a sound since he had entered.

He came upon a small parlor. There was a fireplace along the far wall. There was a bit of timber in the tender box, just enough to start a small fire. The wet clothes clinging to his form trapped the chill within him. Shivering, the boy made his way across the dusty carpet toward the hearth. He arranged the remaining tender in the brick fireplace. Strips of parchment lay in the bottom of the tender box along with some flint. With the flint, Matthew lit a strip of parchment and wedged it beneath the wood.

As the fire slowly grew, the blond glanced about the room. There was a large chair nearby, a moth-worn quilt drapped over the back. The lad fetched the quilt and proceeded to remove his riding hood and tunic. He removed his breeches flowed by his underclothes, quickly wrapping up in the quilt. He lay the clothes out on the stone hearth to let them dry. Snuggled in the quilt, the boy huddled as close to the fire as he dared.

What is to become of me, he thought with dread. He had lost his supplies in the forest and his horse had abandoned him in the storm. He had lost the road and had no idea where town was. He was lost and alone with no way to get home or send word to his brothers. He was hungry and exhausted and chilled to the bone. If pneumonia didn't kill him, starvation surely would.

Suddenly, the room was filled with a terrible growling sound. Frightened, the human lad twisted around to face the rest of the room. His heart leapt into his throat, blocking any form of scream.

Before him loomed a great beast. At first he believed it be a white bear. But its face was like that of a wolf, its hackles drawn to show white fangs. It has a long tail and stood on its back paws alone. Wrapped about its neck was a strip of cloth, like a scarf.

"Нарушитель!" the creature snarled.

Matthew trembled within the quilt. The beast growled once more, shifting closer to the blond.

"F-forg-give me. I-I'm lost." The boy whispered desperately.

The creature's violet eyes narrowed. Being lost in the forest usually meant death. If this boy were lost, surly his family would think him gone forever.

A great paw lifted and the human flinched. It wrapped about his small figure and pushed him to the floor. the quilt fell away, revealing pale smooth flesh. A purr rose from the beast as it began snuffling the boy's golden hair. Matthew sobbed in fear as the paw dragged the quilt away, leaving him bare for the beast to investigate.

The lad was a beauty indeed.

Ivan's beastly appetite could not simply allow the boy to escape.

**Disclaimer: I Own Nothing**

**Нарушитель – trespasser**

**02/25/2011**


	5. Greece & Japan: Necessary

Greece & Japan: Necessary

Fem!Greece – Hera

Japan – Kiku

"Is this really necessary?"

Kiku felt terribly exposed. Honestly, he felt downright humiliated. Yes, he had agreed to assist Hera with her homework. Yes, he had agreed to model for her. But he had NOT agreed to model while adorned in only a silk sheet.

He was currently lounging rather stiffly on an antique couch, his hips positioned in such an undignified manner that he wished for nothing more than to curl up his legs. The purple silk draped over his pelvis did little to comfort him. He felt her burning hazel-green eyes on his white flesh, every surface and plain absorbed with hunger. He wanted to squirm. Hera had always been bold, blunt and very forward. She admired the Japanese form and hadn't the shame to keep herself from molesting him with her eyes. She always asked Kiku to be her model.

Most of her projects were traditional Japanese fashion, however. Now and then she managed to get him in a formal kimono but most it was male yukata. But for this assignment, she wished to cross Japanese form with traditional Greek art.

"Yes, it is very necessary," Hera purred. Her thickly accented voice was like honey on his skin and he whimpered. She sounded like the cats she adored most. "I usually have to trick you to get you naked."

Kiku's face turned a brilliant red.

**Disclaimer: I Own Nothing!**

**02/25/2011**

**Jo Manta**

**PS: I have continually failed to mention this: If you notice ANY mistakes in ANY of the languages used in ANY drabble that are not English, please let me know. I used Google!Translator which seems to work well but I have no idea if it is at all accurate. So, if I get it wrong, please lemme know how I can fix it. Thanks.**


	6. Germany & Italy: Whiskers

Germany & Italy: Whiskers

Italy – Feliciano

Neko!Germany – Gattino di Germania

Feliciano hummed cheerfully as he climbed the stairs to his flat, grocery bag cradled safely in his elbow. He smiled as he reached the door, pulling a key from his pocket. "I hope Gattino likes the fresh tuna I bought." The man said as he entered the apartment. The large single room was a cluttered mess of paints, easels, and canvas among finished and partial paintings. The cabinets were packed with ingredients for pastas and pizzas. He placed the bag of fresh vegetables on the counter. He dug out the wrapped slice of tuna fish and made his way toward the open window.

"Gattino!" Dinner time!" Feliciano called as he placed the unwrapped tuna on the window ledge. "It's tuna! I'm making pasta so come in when you want." The brunette left the open window and went about making his own meal.

He soon heard the tentative sound of paws on the shingles outside the window. The deep meow of a cat sounded from the window before the crinkling sound of wrapping. The human sang aloud as he cooked, listening for the purr that would tell him that the cat was finished.

The purr did not come until Feliciano felt warm muscle press against his ankle and rub and twist between his legs. He giggled, reaching to gather the black stray into his arms. It had taken the boy an entire year working with the cat to get it to come eat then come into the apartment and let the Italian hold it.

Bright blue eyes watched the human as he sang while he cooked. Now an dthen the brunette would make a mess of his hands or face. The cat would paw as his chest and arm until the human allowed it to lick him clean. Gattino was a stickler for being clean. He wouldn't even come inside if the room was too messy.

"Oh! I got you something, Gattino!"

The human reached into his pocket and pulled forth an object. It swayed and wriggled in the air, drawing the attention of the feline. Feliciano set the cat onto the counter as it followed the moving thing in his hand. The Italian giggled, teasing the creature a bit before finally wrapping his hands about its neck. "There!" A black, red and gold striped ribbon tied in a bow now adorned the black cat's neck.

"You look so pretty, Gattino di Germania!"

Feliciano could have sworn the cat's nose turned red.

How cute!

**Disclaimer: I Own Nothing!**

**Gattino – kitty**

**Gattino di Germania – Germany kitty**

**If any of my foreign language is wrong in anyway, please let me know how to correct it and I will do my best to do so. I use Google!Translator so I have no idea if anything is accurate.**

**02/25/2011**


	7. America & England: Country Boy

America & England: Country Boy

Inspired by Tim McGraw's "The Cowboy In Me"

America – Alfred

Fem!England - Alice

The lorry was once green, now faded and rusty. It looked ready to fall apart and yet withstand a hurricane. It rumbled and roared with the accelerator, the muffler puttering and puffing. It was a full bed, a tire strapped the rail and a large tool box resting inside. The furniture and boxes were hidden by a moth-eaten blanket with rope tethering it down. The cab was a single, long bench seat, an empty gun rack hanging across the rear window. A worn leather cowboy hat lay upon the dash.

Alice felt her stomach curl inward. She couldn't tell if it was disgust or something else as her cheeks flushed pink. What a…obnoxious automobile. There was nothing like it in London. And in the two years she'd been in the United States, she had never encountered such a disruption in the form of a vehicle.

The rusty "pick-up" truck pulled into a parking space, permit dangling lazily from the rear-view mirror. She saw the leather hat disappear just before the driver's side door squealed and creaked open. Frowning, Alice tossed a pigtail over her shoulder. She should just turn around and keep walking. She had a lot of unpacking yet to do and her roommate had yet to arrive and she wanted to be prepared for her. But she simply couldn't remove her eyes. Not until she got a peek at who could drive such a conspicuous monstrosity.

Slim, tattered denim jeans capped with leather boots. A dark blue plaid shirt under an old leather fighter pilot jacket. Tall, slim and muscular with a farmer's tan. Yellow blond hair trimmed neatly with a cowlick just off the brow. The worn hat was carefully wedged upon the head, masking the beautiful hair. Bright sky blue eyes lifted, meeting dark evergreen. Then, he flashed a pearly white grin.

"Howdy, miss." The southern drawl wasn't thick but it was noticeable.

Alice felt her cheeks heat to a bright red.

What on earth was this country boy doing so far north?

**Disclaimer: I Own Nothing! © 2008 Hidekaz Himaruya and GENTOSHA COMICS INC.**

**02/26/2011**


	8. Spain & Romano:Crush

Spain & Romano: Crush

Inspired by David Archuleta's "Crush"

France – Francis

Spain – Antonio (Toni)

Romano – Lovino

Francis never glared. Not unless it was toward an English bâtard. But right now, he's glaring. Glaring at a love-sick, ignorant Spaniard who's too damn gutless to make a move.

No, the Frenchman was not usually this angry but god was he getting tired of this. Tired of watching his best friend jump between elation and heartbreak. If he wasn't daydreaming, he was crying. If he wasn't texting animatedly on his phone, he was recording apology after apology on voicemail. If he wasn't out picking tomatoes, he was locked in his room with his guitar, composing the most heart wrenching love songs anyone had ever heard. Sometimes he came back to the dorm with the brightest smile on his face and sometimes he came back with a black eye.

Honestly, Francis also wanted to hit Antonio for his ineptitude.

This silly school boy crush had to stop.

There was no way it was healthy.

That Italian spitfire was cute, certainly. But he was far too violent and just as oblivious as Toni.

And Francis was tired of cleaning up after the rejections.

After two years, why couldn't Antonio just give up?

It was just a crush after all.

**Disclaimer: I Own Nothing! © Hidekaz Himaruya and GENTOSHA COMIC INC.**

**02/26/2011**


	9. Prussia & Canada: Snip Snip

Prussia & Canada: Snip Snip 

Fem!Prussia – Gillian

Canada – Matthew

Gil felt her cheeks burn. She silently cursed herself. Awesome Prussian woman do NOT blush! Certainly no over something as simple as this. It was her choice to do it, damn it! No one had the right to judge her for her decision it was a part of her body and therefore no one's business what she did with it. She had never let the thoughts of other affect her. She had always been strange and was proud of it. So why she should feel self-conscious now was just absurd!

The girl turned her head to the side so the other wouldn't see the flush of her cheeks. Without realizing she had lifted a hand to stroke a lock of hair. It felt so strange. Where once there was a heavy weight on her shoulders, tresses so long she could run her fingers through it, now were short and straight, tickling her cheekbones and the curves of her ears.

Gillian had never been without her long white hair. Grandpa Fritz had never really pressed it but he was a traditionalist. He believed women looked best in dresses with long hair. Ever since they were children, Gillian and her baby sister Louise had worn their hair long. But when Louise join track in high school, she had cut all her golden tresses off. Grandpa Fritz had said nothing, not even when her wardrobe whent frommodest skirts and sundresses to denim jeans and track shirts. Gillian had also abandoned the dresses for her own style but she had never cut her hair.

What suddenly possessed her to change was lost to her. But at the time, it had felt right.

Now, she wasn't so sure.

"It's cute."

Red eyes widened. A large hand appeared in her line of site, opposite her own. Calloused fingers tugged gently on a white lock of hair. Cheeks dark red, the girl looked to see shining violet-blue eyes behind lenses.

There was that look again. That look Matthew got when he was so overcome with warm, fuzzy feelings. His eyes were so soft and warm and his smile so brilliant Gil could have sworn there were flowers blooming behind him. The blonde Canadian was almost glowing with adoration and love.

"I like it." Matthew announced as he continued to play with the white hair.

Gillian shoved him in the chest, face an even brighter red than before. She huffed, crossing her arms.

"You're such a sap!"

**Disclaimer: I Own Nothing! © Hidekaz Himaruya and GENTOSHA COMIC INC.**

**03/01/11**


	10. Spain & Romano: Cosca

Spain & Romano: Cosca

Fem!Spain – Antonia

Romano – Lovino

Germany - Ludwig

N. Italy - Feliciano

Antonia cursed, clenching her arms as she felt her muscles tremble. She hated this feeling. The feeling of utter terror coursed through her. She could feel her heart pounding against her ribs, trying to escape. The sound of it was deafening. She felt cold yet so hot. The sweat flowing down the back of her neck stung like ice but her flesh felt like it was on fire. Everything was shaking; her hands, her vision, her stomach, her legs. Her eyes began to sting and she felt something warm and wet soaking into her blouse.

Trembling, the Spanish rose drew her long legs closer, socked feet dragging away from the red liquid now flooding the floor of her shop. The lump of cooling flesh lay lifelessly in the mess, dark eyes losing all light. The flood was originating from the hole in his head and in his stomach.

_"Sei ferita, mia moglie?"_

The girl flinched; lifting emerald green eyes from the corpse at her feet. The pistol was still held firm in his hand, aimed for her bosom where the _pervertido's _head once been. She couldn't tear her eyes from the firearm. As if noticing the fear she held, that hand lowered until the pistol came to rest against the man's hip. She was then able to examine her savor.

He was dressed in a sleek black Italian suit with a deep crimson tie beneath the collar and fedora perched on his dark auburn hair. His hazel eyes were ablaze, burning with the residual rage held for the _bastardo_ between them.

Antonia felt tears well up as those hazel eyes met her gaze. They softened only enough to reassure her. She watched as he carefully lifted the flap of his jacket, tucking the pistol away in its holster along his ribs. He deftly buttoned the jacket as he marched heedlessly through the pool of crimson blood. With his shined dress shoes, he kicked the corpse further from her before crouching before her trembling figure.

_"Sei ferita, Antonia? Stai bene?"_ He whispered once more. He lifted a hand toward her and she flinched. Hurt filled those hazel eyes. Fingers lightly brushed across her cheek bone and tucked a curl behind her ear. _"Ho…paura di te?"_

She couldn't breathe. A tear rolled down her nose as she tried to breathe in. Her lungs trembled with the rest of her body. Frightened? Yes, she had been frightened.

She felt his hand pull away.

"No!" She grabbed hold of that hand, clenching it tightly to her cheek. She sobbed, kissing his palm. "_No, no es mi marido. El pervertido me asustó."_

Upon her words, a small smile formed upon those thin lips. Leaning forward, he kissed away her tears.

"I should scold you for being so reckless. Working in a place like this, alone, so late at night. _La mia sposa stupida."_ He whispered as he continued to kiss her cheeks, her nose, her jaw, her eyes and finally her lips.

"Lovino." Antonia breathed. "Take me home."

"_Si."_

With great care, the Italian wrapped his arm around her back and cradled her thighs with the other. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders as he stood. The brunette grunted as her weight settled on him and she giggled.

Lovino gave the dead man on last hard kick, just for good measure.

"Make this trash disappear, _fratellino_." He ordered as he passed made his way through the entrance of the shop.

The younger Italian nodded obediently, his tall German contract beside him. Feliciano strolled toward the corpse as Ludwig removed his jacket and began rolling up the sleeves of his white shirt. A dark grin fell upon the auburn youth's lips.

"Never touch the wife of Don Vargas."

**Disclaimer: I Own Nothing © Hidekaz Himaruya and GENTOSHA COMIC INC.**

**Italian:**

_**Sei ferita, mia moglie**_** – Are you hurt, my wife?**

_**Sei ferita, Antonia? Stai bene? – **_**Are you hurt, Antonia? Are you alright?**

_**Ho…paura di te? – **_**Did I…frighten you?**

_**La mia sposa stupida – **_**My stupid bride.**

_**Fartellino**_** – little brother**

**Spanish:**

_**No, no es mi marido. El pervertido me asustó. – **_**No, not my husband. That pervert frightened me.**

**If any of my foreign language is wrong in anyway, please let me know how to correct it and I will do my best to do so. I use Google!Translator so I have no idea if anything is accurate.**

**03/19/11**


	11. Germany & Italy:Alleyways and Trackstars

Germany & Italy: Alleyways and Track Stars 

Gem!Germany – Louise

Italy – Feliciano

"P-Please! Please don't H-Hurt me! I'm to y-young to die!"

Louise frowned below her hood. The rain beat down on her back and shoulders, drumming loudly on the road. The blonde slowed to a jog, tugging one of the ear-buds out in order to listen. She could faintly hear yelling, just under the sound of rain. The thick blanket of clouds overhead made the streets dark and eerie, the streetlamps dark. The sidewalks were barren, though some cars passed now and then.

"N-No! S-Someone save me!"

There!

The girl growled, turning toward a dark alleyway not far ahead of her. She heard more muffled yelling from around the corner and sobbing. Someone was being attacked? Gritting her teeth, the blonde sprinted toward the alley. She pressed her side against the corner and peered in. there were three guys, one really big one and two average looking punks. They were on the American Football team. She saw a form huddled against the wall as they yelled and kicked at it. The pitiful figure continued to sob and whimper helplessly.

Louise licked her lips, slipping the second ear-bud out of her ear. She tucked them carefully in her pocket with her iPOD. She stretched her muscles ever so slightly, preparing herself for a potential confrontation. She had no doubts that she could beat these guys. They were nothing compared to Gillian. Grandfather had insisted they learn to defend themselves. Louise was confident that she would not get hurt.

"Oi!" she yelled, stepping away from the wall and into view. "What are you doing?" she demanded.

"Eh?"

"What'cha think, dweb?"

Two of the punks looked her way, sneering as the third kicked the bundle of flesh once more.

"Leave. Now." Louise commanded. Yes, she could handle a confrontation well enough but that didn't mean she welcomed it.

"You friends with this brat, boy?"

"_Junge_?" Louise muttered, glaring at the teenager. "_Sie denken, ich bin ein Junge?"_

"Eh?"

"Dude, I think that's that German bitch with the white hair." One of them muttered darkly, glaring her way.

Louise bit her lower lip. Yes, Gillian was a handful and caused trouble for others. But they were sisters and no one had the right to insult Gil in her presence.

"One more word and you shall regret it. Leave." Louise commanded once more, fists curling.

"Tch! S'not worth it. Come on guys. Leave the faggot."

The three shuffled past her, giving her dirty looks. As she last one passed, a hand came down hard on her ass.

A fist flew out and landed hard in the punk's jaw. He was thrown to the ground from the impact, blood oozing from his nose and busted lip.

Louise glared with icy fury at the three.

_ "Rühr mich nicht an."_

The rats ran squealing, sneakers pattering in wet puddles.

The blonde sighed, muscles relaxing. A soft whimper sounded not far away and she felt her features soften. Cool blue eyes lifted to locate the poor fellow targeted by the weasels. Curled against the wall was a boy. His khakis were dirty and rumpled, his jumper ripped revealing the oxford beneath it. Rich auburn hair clung to his face and neck, soaked with rain. His entire figure was shaking from cold and fear, his face ashen. His hazel eyes were wide and swollen, tears streaming down and mixing with rain.

Though he was perhaps only a year younger than Louise, the boy looked like a lost child. She felt her heart swell with warmth and anger as she studied the boy. He whimpered and sobbed pitifully, snot dripping down his face. He cried like a fool.

Louise smiled gently before approaching the boy. He watched her, holding his sore stomach gingerly. She lowered her hood, revealing short golden hair and clear blue eyes. She offered him a weak smile, running a hand gently over his cheek. It was swollen and starting to purple. The poor thing.

"Can you stand?"

"V-Ve…" the boy breathed weakly.

Louise carefully wrapped an arm under his and around his back, lifting him to his feet. She wrapped the arm around her shoulder. At full height, the boy was a few inches shorter than her.

"Do you live nearby?"

The boy nodded, pointing down the street. Louise proceeded to help him hobble home.

"Ve~ what's your name?"

The German girl blinked in surprise. She coughed a little before answering.

_ "Ve~ Louise è molto bella~!" _the boy announced.

Louise knew that he spoke Italian. She knew very little Italian. She did know that "bella" meant "beauty" or "pretty.

The blonde's cheeks flushed pink.

"Ve~!"

**Disclaimer: I Own Nothing! © Hidekaz Himaruya and GENTOSHA COMIC INC.**

**German:**

_Junge? – _Boy?

_Sie denken, ich bin ein Junge? – _You think I'm a boy?

_Rühr mich nicht an. – _Do not touch me.

**Italian:**

_Louise è molto bella – _Louise is very beautiful

**If any of my foreign language is wrong in anyway, please let me know how to correct it and I will do my best to do so. I use Google!Translator so I have no idea if anything is accurate.**

**03/01/11**


	12. Prussia & Canada: BEER BEER BEER

Prussia & Canada: BEER BEER BEER! 

Inspired by "The Beer Song" by They Might Be Giants

Prussia – Gilbert

Canada – Matthew

Matthew firmly believed that every high school student suffered from bouts of embarrassment on a regular basis and it was all a part of that stage in life. Puberty was an embarrassment that could not be delayed, denied or resisted. It happened and they got over it. Children were born to embarrass their parents and thus they embarrass their children in revenge. Older siblings – particularly brothers – thrived on the humiliation of their younger siblings. Then of course some teenagers were prone to create embarrassing situations for themselves.

_"Oh…"_

But Matthew felt he himself had more misfortune than most teenagers. In fact, he would bet his life that he had experienced more embarrassment in high school than any of his classmates in their sixteen years of life. Puberty had been especially awkward for him. Yes, he grew taller, his voice cracked and his shoulders broadened. However, his tone was still a higher pitch than most and just as quiet. He was taller than half his class but his slim figure and lack of muscles didn't help at all. He had long eyelashes and wavy blond hair that hung to his shoulders. He was clumsy and could never say the right thing even if anyone was paying attention.

His parents loved to fawn over him, pulling out albums of baby pictures. They gushed and cooed over anything he did. His mother had a bad habit of buying him the frilliest tops that were clearly not meant for a boy, let alone a teenager.

_"What is the malt and liquor?_

_What gets you drunken quicker?_

_What comes in bottles or in cans?_

_ BEER!"_

Not to mention Alfred, Matthew's older brother. Yes, Alfred was only a year older but he was still older and in his mind, that gave him every right to utterly embarrass him. The blond loved to play pranks on him, including stealing his textbooks, pasting childhood pictures all over the school and spreading – not cruel but – horrible rumors about him. Alfred's favorite pastime though was raiding his closet and replacing all his things with the frilly blouses and spring dressed their mother continued to buy.

_"Can't get enough of it (BEER)_

_ How we really love it (BEER)_

_ Makes me think I'm a man (BEER)"_

But perhaps the MOST embarrassing thing in Matthew's life had to be the one who was currently trying to call him while he was sitting in the middle of Algebra. The ridiculous song was practically shouting from his pocket. Heads and eyes were all turned and looked upon the blond as he felt his spirits sink. Matthew wanted the ground to just swallow him up. The instructor lowered his hand away from the chalkboard, looking over the frames of his glasses.

_"I could kiss and hug it (BEER)_

_ But I'd rather chug it (BEER)_

_ Got my belly up to here (BEER)"_

The instructor's mouth opened but before he could even breath, Matthew was out of his seat, shoving his book into his bag and fumbling over desks and bags toward the door.

"I'M SO SORRY!" he shouted as he sprinted out of the room and down the hall.

He slid to a stop halfway down the staircase, digging into his pants pocket for the accursed cellular. He was going to kill the bastard! One way or another!

_"I could not refuse a – BEER!_

_ I could really use a – "_

"Gilbert, you asshole!" Matthew hissed into the speaker of the phone when he finally got it open. "I was in class, you idiot! You messed with my phone again, didn't you?"

_**"Birdie! What took you so long to pick up?"**_

"I told you, I have school until four."

_**"Oh, right. Forgot.**_"

I hate university students, thought Matthew as he rubbed the headache building in his forehead.

"What did you want Gil?"

_**"Just wanted to call and tell you I love you."**_ The other chirped happily on the other end. _**"I love you!"**_

The blonde inhaled deep and felt a smile forming despite his frustration. Yes, Gilbert was perhaps the most embarrassing thing in his life. But the guy was such a sap. If he even got the littlest urge to tell Matthew something, he'd immediately call him, no matter the time or place. This was not the first time Gil had called to just say "I love you" and it wouldn't be the last.

And it made Matthew really happy.

"Love you too, Gil."

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. © Hidekaz Himaruya and GENTOSHA COMIC INC.**

**03/20/11**


	13. Germany & Italy: Jealous

Germany & Italy: Jealous

Germany - Ludwig

Italy – Feliciano

_Why?_

Feliciano cursed as his fist landed hard against the wall. He felt something hot and nasty pooling in the bottom of his stomach. He clenched at his chest, the left side overcome with a sharp ache that wouldn't go away. Hadn't gone away for a while now. His jaw locked together as he held back his voice. He wanted to yell, scream, and curse. He wanted to run as far away as he could but he also wanted to go back. He wanted to see him once more, despite all the pain and hatred it made him feel.

_Why did this happen?_

Hatred was not something familiar to Feliciano. He had never hated anyone before. Yes, there were people he was afraid of and people he didn't quite trust. But he had never hated them. Even if he had a reason to hate them, he didn't. He simply disliked them or avoided them. But this was different. This time, he hated and could not justify his hate. He could barely fathom the emotion, let alone pin it down to a specific reason.

_Why her? Why not me?_

No. There was a reason. There was a reason for this feeling. But that reason alone did not justify the emotion. It was unwarranted, unintended. It wasn't premeditated, it just happened. No one was to blame for it. He didn't blame anyone, certainly not. But he still felt it. Deep inside where it brewed, just waiting to boil over.

_Why can't it be me?_

Why did he have to be born this way? Why did he have to be born in this body? Why couldn't he have been born a girl? Why couldn't he have been born here? Why couldn't he have been the one to grow up here? Why couldn't he have been the one with the ring on his finger? Why couldn't he have been the one those eyes followed everywhere? Why couldn't he have been the one that man adored?

_Why? Am I no good?_

Feliciano punched the wall once more as hot tears poured from his eyes. A sob wrenched its way from his locked jaw and he felt everything overflow. The pain in his chest grew and overtook his entire body, weakening his knees until he was on the ground. He dug his torn fingernails into the course wall as he jammed his crown against it.

_Why? What makes her better than me?_

She was beautiful. Feliciano would never say she wasn't. She was young, beautiful and mild. She would make the perfect wife. She had a good family and a good education. She could cook and clean and she was a hard worker. She was kind and friendly to everyone. She was quiet and confident, not easily excitable. In a way, she was perfect. She had been nothing but kind toward him and yet, Feliciano hated her. More than anything in the world.

_Why can't you pick me?_

Feliciano tried to breathe through his sobs but found it nearly impossible. He had been holding the tears back for so long, putting on a happy face for his best friend for so long. Now, now that the tears had begun, he couldn't stop them. He would let himself cry. But never again. He had to accept it.

Ludwig was getting married.

Ludwig was leaving him behind.

Ludwig was going to marry her.

Feliciano hated that.

_Why can't it be me?_

**Disclaimer: I Own Nothing! © Hidekaz Himaruya and GENTOSHA COMIC INC.**

**03/20/11**


	14. America & England: Anarchy

America & England: Anarchy 

Inspired by*kanae's "Counter Culture" on deviantART

America – Alfred

England – Arthur

"You listen to Sex Pistols?"

Alfred glanced to his left, a little startled. He hadn't expected to be addressed, let alone by the unfriendliest looking dude in the car. He was dressed in tight black pants and a tattered white T-shirt, a large "A" within a circle in brilliant red painted on it. One of his pierced bushy eyebrows was arched as those emerald green eyes focused on Alfred's iPOD.

The blond glanced down at the little device resting in his palm. The backlight had just faded but he could still see the outline of the words at the bottom. There was no album image with the song but the title was unmistakable to some. The heavily accented, rather off key vocals were ringing through the white ear buds.

"Yeah. Picked it up from my little brother. He's kinda into weird stuff like that." Alfred confessed, tugging one of the buds free so he could hear the other better. He glanced over to the dude once more, his blue eyes drawn straight to that vibrant green hair.

The dude huffed, eyes still glued to the iPOD screen. Suddenly, his hand shot out and grabbed the loose ear bud and shoved it back into Alfred's ear. He then grabbed the other and pulled it free. The blond watched dumbfounded as the punk tucked the bud into his own ear.

"Anarchy in the UK." The accent seemed thicker when he muttered. He tucked his hands into his pockets, eyes closing as he became absorbed into the music.

Alfred chuckled, a little miffed so say the least. He felt his chest tighten as he wiggled a little closer to the bloke to ease some of the tension on the thin white wires. Their shoulders touched but the smaller one didn't even flinch. The blond settled in for the rest of the ride, rubbing his hands over his ARMY issue camouflage pants. He idly wondered what the other's hair looked like without the dye.

**Disclaimer: I Own Nothing! © Hidekaz Himaruya and GENTOSHA COMIC INC.**

**04/12/11**


	15. Prussia & Canada: Scavarf

Prussia & Canada: Scavarf

Prussia – Gilbert

Canada – Matthew

Germany – Ludwig

Italy – Feliciano

Romano – Lovino

Spain – Antonio

America – Alfred

England - Arthur

Gilbert glared at his younger brother.

Ludwig blushed, ducking his head; thus burying his face into the green, white and red scarf.

Gilbert glared at the little Italian beside the blond.

Feliciano giggled happily as he cuddled into his black, red and gold muffler.

Gilbert shifted his glare to the Italian's twin who stood beside him.

Lovino was shifting his own blazing glare between the scarf wrapped around his twin's neck and the red and yellow one in his hands.

Gilbert glanced at his best friend hovering behind the Italians.

Antonio cooed and cuddled his green, white and red scarf while trying to wrap Lovino in the red and yellow one.

Gilbert turned to glare at the group of blonds in the far corner.

Arthur was admiring the intricate patterns in the equally red, white and blue mufflers in his hand and draped over Alfred's shoulders. If one wasn't looking for the gold stars or the red cross, no one would have known the difference.

Gilbert glared at the black and white masterpiece in his hand.

What was wrong with this picture?

Gilbert abruptly stood, clutching the scarf tightly. The albino marched across the room where the blondes lingered. The trio failed to notice his approached until he was looming over the little figure perched on the ottoman before Arthur and Alfred.

Matthew smiled at the admiring gazes the others held. He was very proud of his work, having crocheted several scarves within a few weeks in order to give everyone theirs by the next gathering. He had made certain of everyone feelings – directly or indirectly – before preparing them. Each scarf was that of a flag of their significant other or love interest (even if Lovino wouldn't admit it). The blond ran his fingers over the red and white scarf draped over his shoulders. He and Alfred had lived half of their childhood in Canada and he felt a deep bond with the country. Though Alfred was pure American.

Matthew gasped when his scarf was suddenly snatched off his neck from behind. He tilted his head back, seeking the culprit. A pair of hands then wrapped a black and white scarf about his neck.

Gilbert grinned happily as he slung the Canadian scarf around his neck.

"I think our gifts got mixed up, Birdie."

Matthew blushed a bright pink.

Gilbert snickered. Honestly, how could Birdie think he could get away with that little stunt? He wasn't awesome for nothing.

**Disclaimer: I Own Nothing! © Hidekaz Himaruya and GENTOSHA COMIC INC.**

**04/12/11**


	16. Russia & Canada: Sunflower Part One

Russia & Canada: Sunflower Part One

Russia – Ivan

Canada – Matthew

Matthew was not the type of man to deny himself the simple joys in life. He would admit to anyone he enjoyed soaking in a hot bath or taking strolls on a warm afternoon. Yes, he enjoyed hockey and beer and watching a good fight now and then. But he also enjoyed sweets and scented candles. But most of all, he enjoyed flowers. Flowers of every shape, color, texture and scent. They were all lovely, in their own way.

Matthew worked at a corner florist shop and adjoining café. The shop's entry was large, wrapping entirely around the corner without any doors. A large light green awning shaded the entry. Each day, potted plants and barrels of long stem flowers were place on the outside walkway. The ceiling and entrance was adorned in hanging baskets and trellises weaved with climbing roses and vines of all breeds. There were a few coolers inside the shop where premade arrangements were kept as well as a corner where trinkets, stuffed animals and cards were kept. The walls were majorly large glass windows, letting in the sunlight. The scent of fresh baked bread mingled with the sweet floral fragrances filled the shop and café.

A long green apron shielded the boy's simple white shirt, sleeves rolled to the elbow, and khakis. The front locks of his wavy golden hair were drawn back and held by a simple red burette. The young man had been working for this particular shop since he had entered university. The hours were good and it paid the bills. While it wasn't considered a worthwhile job, Matthew enjoyed it. He got to meet different people nearly every day and he got to observe passersby whenever he had a free moment.

One in particular was a rather tall broad man who passed the shop every afternoon during Matthew's shift. He was dressed in a business suit and carried a briefcase. He had light, beige colored hair and eyes that bordered on lavender in color. He was always alone and never spoke. Sometimes he was so deep in thought or so intent on his journey he spared the flower shop not a glance. Other times, he would glance in, pause perhaps before continuing on. On the rare occasion, the tall man would wander through the shop. He never bought anything, nor did he go to the café. His meander usually ended when he reached the barrel of sunflowers. There he would linger, admiring the bright blossoms before leaving without a word. After a few of these occasions, Matthew began placing the sunflowers in different areas if only to watch the man a little longer.

He was handsome. His face was soft and round and he usually had a little smile on. But his eyes were dark and somewhat lonesome. Some days, the man's eyes were so dark and angry, they looked black. Those days, the man lingered heavily before the sunflowers.

Once, another staff member had attempted to speak with the gentleman. He had stared down at the girl so intensely that she had nearly cried. He spoke not a word to her, simply departing the shop. Matthew never dared to approach him after that.

The blonde glanced toward the clock. It was nearly time for his favorite passerby to appear. Today, however, he was not alone.

Draped upon his arm was a beautiful young woman with long hair in a blue business suit dress. She had lovely blue eyes and soft skin. She barely reached the man's shoulder in height. Eyes were drawn to her and she spoke softly to her companion.

Matthew felt something heavy settle in his stomach.

The man paused, glancing longingly into the flower shop. Noticing his attention stray, the woman also looked. She then proceeded to pull him forward, pointing to a particular arrangement of roses. She examined them, speaking to the tall man. It was not English she spoke but the man appeared to understand her perfectly. She gathered up the arrangement and faced her companion.

Matthew quickly shoved the small bouquet of sunflowers aside as they approached the counter.

He had never approached the tall man before. They had never spoken.

Giving sunflowers to a total stranger would be terribly inappropriate.

**Disclaimer: I Own Nothing! © Hidekaz Himaruya and GENTOSHA COMIC INC.**

**05/27/11**


	17. Russia & Canada & Prussia: July 1st

Prussia & Canada & Russia: July 1st

Prussia – Gilbert

Russia – Ivan

Canada – Matthew

Matthew sipped his water meekly, peeking over the rim of the glass. He could feel the tension in the air, every eye watching anxiously to see what was to happen. He felt a heavy darkness settling over his shoulders, disturbed only by the bolts of electricity clashing together in the center of it all.

To Matthew's left sat his long time friend and roommate, Gilbert. The "Awesome Prussian" was dressed in a pair of slim black and white faded jeans with a dark red dress shirt, the collar popped and a black tied hanging loosely on his neck. He hadn't bothered brushing his snowy hair and he'd gone all out on his jewelry and piercing, the silver polished to shine. He was leaning forward on the table, ignoring his coffee and was opening glaring at the man opposite him.

To Matthew's right sat one of his regular customers and – as odd as it was – friend, Ivan. The Russian was dressed in a stylish three piece suit with a pale scarf wrapped around his neck, despite the obvious summer heat. He filled his chair to the brim with his wide figure. He had a small smile on his face, as if he found amusement in the heavy tension around him. But what no one else could hear was the soft "kolkolkol" seeping from between those lips.

Matthew tried to sink lower in his chair, smothering himself in both his water and his big red hoodie. He had been spending the last few days helping his brother plan for his birthday party. So needless to say, he had been very surprised this morning when he found bother Gilbert and Ivan on his doorstep arguing over who was taking him out to lunch. Telling them he had to work the noon shift at the café had done nothing to settle the matter.

Fed up with the heaviness, Matthew set his glass of water down on the table. "I'm sorry, but if the only reason we're here is for you two to glare at each other, I'm going. I have a lot to do before Monday." The blond said softly as he stood. He didn't expect either of the men to hear him, let alone notice his absence.

"NO!"

A pair of arms wrapped around his shoulders and another around his knees, nearly causing the man to fall on his face.

"Gil! Get off me!" Matthew cried, though he was only heard by the next table over.

"But Birdie! We always spend your birthday together!" Gilbert whined, wrapping his legs around Matthew's ankles as well.

"Birthday?" Matthew questioned. Sure, Alfred's birthday was in a few days but what did that have to do with Gilbert's odd behavior?

"July 1st. Matvey's birthday, da?" Ivan kicked Gilbert, trying to untangle him from the blond. "I vish to spend birthday vith you."

Matthew frowned for a moment, question marks floating in his brain. July fir-

"Oh!" the man blushed. "It is my birthday. I forgot…"

**Disclaimer: I Own Nothing! © Hidekaz Himaruya and GENTOSHA COMIC INC.**

Happy Birthday Canada! We love you!

I didn't want to appear biased so I did this one with both Russia and Prussia. The original idea was Prussia having France and Spain tie him to Canada's bed and getting caught but I wanted to be fair to my RusCan fans too on this lovely July 1st.

7/1/11


	18. America & England: July 4th

America & England: July 4th

America – Alfred

England – Arthur

Canada – Matthew

"Al, I'm heading out now." Matthew called from the entry. When he got no response, the blond turned. He sighed, a small sad smile forming. The other man was sitting on the floor between the couch and coffee table, slumped forward so his chin rested on the polished wood. His fork was wedged between his lips and was twitching as he stared glumly at the vibrant blue red and white piece of cake sitting before him.

Matthew crossed the room toward his brother. He placed a kiss on his crown. "Happy birthday, Al." the man whispered gently before heading for the door once more.

Alfred heard the door shut and felt a heavy weight settle. He had done well for the past week. He had kept Matthew close by and kept his mind firmly on planning his birthday party. Mattie had been very understanding and supportive, as had Kiku, but now that the day was over and everyone gone, Alfred felt that one thing he had been avoiding all week.

Loneliness.

He had done everything he could think of to keep the pain away. He'd thrown a huge party, invited a bunch of people, had cake and beer and all sorts of games. But a majority of the people who came either hated him or simply came for the beer. Francis had brought one of his beautifully styled cakes that everyone loved and no one had touched the brilliant blue, red and white cake he and Mattie had spent ages designing and making. Plus, he'd only received a few gifts and some half-assed cards.

This was not how Alfred imaged his birthday to be. Admittedly it wasn't much different from his other birthdays. But this particular birthday was supposed to be special. It was supposed to be the best birthday Al had had since he was a child. Alfred felt the tears forming and pouted. He shouldn't have to cry on his own birthday.

The blond was startled by knocking at the door. He frowned. Matthew didn't knock often and that was only if he hadn't been over in a while. No one else would be coming over this late, everyone was off shooting fireworks or sleeping. He was prepared to ignore it and cry of his brightly colored cake when the knocking came again, louder.

Sighing, Alfred wormed his way from underneath the coffee table and stood. Slumming in his favorite blue hoodie, the blond shuffled toward his front door. Even if it was some thug trying to make trouble, Alfred knew he was stronger and would be able to force the guy out easily. He opened the door only enough to see out.

Standing on his porch, cheeks red and green eyes downcast, was Arthur Kirkland. He looked both bashful and ashamed as he shifted from one foot to the other. Tucked under an arm was a brown paper bag, a sparklers package sticking out the top.

"Well, are you going to let me in or not?"

Alfred felt the tears gush forward, startling the shorter man before him. The younger blond bawled, throwing himself out the door and into the other's slighter frame, nearly sending them to the ground.

"Bloody git! Get off me!"

It wasn't exactly the romantic birthday Alfred had imaged but it was his favorite by far.

**Disclaimer: I Own Nothing! © Hidekaz Himaruya and GENTOSHA COMIC INC.**

Happy Birthday America!

7/4/11


	19. Russia & Canada: Sunflower Part Two

Russia & Canada: Sunflowers Part Two

Russia – Ivan

Canada – Matthew

There were few things Ivan enjoyed in the world. He enjoyed vodka and sweets. He enjoyed the sunlight and warm places. He hated the cold. He hated snow and he hated people. He certain hated Americans. He hated his work, except when he got to torment his subordinates and watch them cry. He hated when people stared at him or when they talked too quickly. He hated the English language and wished more than once that he could return to Russia.

He loved sunflowers. It was the only thing Ivan would admit to loving. He cared deeply for his sisters, though one avoided him and the other scared him. Vodka was like water, he needed it to live. But sunflowers were one of the most beautiful creations of Earth and his most treasured possession. However, he could not always afford to adorn his large home in sunflowers. And so, he had to content himself by seeing them in passing.

He could remember the day perfectly. He had discovered the shop by accident. He had decided to take the long way home from work one afternoon and had come across a flower shop. Having yet to see a shop that carried sunflowers on the floor, Ivan was hesitant to enter. Until he saw the barrel sitting near the counter. It was filled with tall green stalks of blossoming suns. From that day on, Ivan took that particular route home, passing the flower shop every day.

He didn't always enter the shop. But when he was feeling exceptionally happy or too angry to control himself, Ivan would enter the shop and seek out the lovely flowers. After a week or so, the location of the sunflowers began to change. At first, Ivan was irritated by this. However, it was amusing to see what clever maze the florist came up with to draw him in.

The shop was always managed by the same boy when Ivan passed. Ivan knew the boy enjoyed watching him but the boy never bothered him so he allowed it. Ivan told no one of his secret flower shop, certainly not his sisters. If they were to learn of it, he would lose the sense of privacy it gave him.

This particular day, however, there was no escaping it. His little sister had discovered him walking home and had latched onto him. He had wanted to go visit the sunflowers today but he had to resist with her present. He could not, however, keep himself from glancing in.

His sister seemed to notice the shop and pulled him inside. Ivan whined a little. His peaceful place was being invaded. She lingered over some ugly red roses, begging him to buy them for her. Unable to defy his scary little sister, Ivan agreed.

Upon approaching the counter, the little boy with gold hair moved a bouquet of sunflowers aside. Had someone ordered them? Ivan felt bitterness in his heart. He didn't want his precious sunflowers to be sold to anyone.

The boy was quiet and spoke slowly. Ivan was not bothered by this. The boy had gold hair, like sunlight. His eyes were a bright blue, like the sky. He was tall, though not nearly as tall as Ivan. He was also dressed in a long green apron.

Ivan giggled.

The boy was like a little sunflower.

Ivan loved sunflowers.

**Disclaimer: I Own Nothing! © Hidekaz Himaruya and GENTOSHA COMIC INC.**

**05/27/11**


	20. Greece & Japan: Bento

Greece & Japan: Bento

Greece –Heracles

Fem!Japan – Kiku

The hallway was empty. The windows were open, voices from the practice fields floating through the air. It was lunch break so most of the students were either outside, in the cafeteria or in a classroom. The student council wasn't holding a noon meeting today so that room was also empty. Very few teachers lingered in the teachers' office during lunch.

Standing in the empty hallway was a young girl. She was dressed neatly in the school uniform; a deep crimson pleated skirt, white blouse, and beige sweater vest over with a matching crimson tie. Her raven hair was cut in a bob style, accenting her soft white skin and large brown eyes. Resting in her hands was a box wrapped in blue fabric covered in paw prints, the corners tied into a knot at the top.

The girl lifted a trembling hand, cheeks flushed a light pink. As quietly as possible, she slid the door open.

"Excuse me for interrupting." The girl called politely, stepping gingerly into the room.

A quick glance revealed no life within the room. The girl cringed, chin dipping toward her collar. She felt a sad disappointment settle in her chest as she stared down at the box in her hands. It had taken days of encouragement from her friends and all the courage within her to approach the office. She had put all her feelings into the box and had prepared it diligently. Only to have arrived at a dead end.

Feeling tears beginning to rise, the girl turned to flee.

A large warm hand settled on her narrow shoulder, stopping her.

"Honda Kiku?"

Her heart fluttered as the low voice whispered just over her ear. She felt her face burn with embarrassment. She quickly stepped forward and faced the other. She bowed lightly in greeting, trembling hands holding tightly to the box.

"Yes, please forgive the interruption." The student stammered.

"Did you need something?"

Kiku blushed, lifting her gaze to meet the man's. Those hazel eyes watched her with lazy curiosity. The man's head titled to the side ever so slight. The girl withheld her giggle. He looked like a curious kitten, with his wavy brown hair and sleepy eyes.

"A-ano, I noticed that Karpusi-sensei misses lunch on a regular basis. If it's not too much trouble, I prepared a bento." The petit girl lifted her hands, presenting the box to the tall Mediterranean. When the instructor made no move to accept the lunch, she felt her heart ache. Cheeks burning hot, the girl quickly tried to apologize for her misunderstanding.

Large tan hands covered hers, cradling them and the lunchbox with gentle care.

"Thank you, Kiku." the teacher said with a small grin.

The poor girl felt like she would burst at the spoken familiarity. She wanted nothing more than to flee, run and bury herself deep into her futon until the world ended. It was almost as embarrassing as the first time Felicia had hugged her.

"I admit, I tend to nap during lunch break and get very hungry before last period." The instructor muttered thoughtfully. He smiled warmly down at the girl. "Would you mind eating with me, Kiku?"

Kiku felt her heart flutter as if to fly from her chest. She felt terribly embarrassed and frightened, her entire body shaking.

But she felt so happy.

**Disclaimer: I Own Nothing! © Hidekaz Himaruya and GENTOSHA COMIC INC.**

**06/09/11**

Sorry for the delay, forgot I hadn't updated.

**By the way, if any of my readers have a request, please feel free to tell me. I'm always open to suggestion.**

I'm sorry if there's an overwhelming amount of Prussia/Canada/Russia type drabbles. Prucan is my favorite and the easiest for me to write.

Jo Manta


	21. Prussia & Canada: Last Resort

I have increased the rating due to the fact that some of my newer drabbles have begun to develop language and situations that I do not believe are appropriate for K+, however, I do not wish to leave them out. I will also begin making the endeavor to include warning notices should I feel they are necessary. Thanks so much for your continued support and feel free to make quests.

Prussia & Canada: Last Resort

Inspired by P!nk's "Sober"

Prussia – Gilbert

Fem!Canada – Mattea

**Warning: language, alcohol abuse**

_Knock Knock_

There was that sound again.

The same sound that had permeated his apartment everyday for the past month.

Gilbert huffed, rolling his bloodshot eyes as he tipped the bottle up, lips wrapped lazily around the rim. He sneered, glaring at the bottle as if it were at fault for being empty before throwing it across the room. The glass shattered on the wall and fell to the graveyard of busted bottles on the floor. He rolled his head on the wall to look one way then the other. Both cases were empty. He sloshed out a curse. He knew there were a few more bottles in the fridge but he didn't have the energy to get up and get them.

_Knock Knock!_

That goddamn sound again!

It had been almost constant a month ago. Every day around the same time, he heard that accursed sound at his door. It had been followed by a jiggle of the knob followed by the deep smooth German that demanded he open the door. Now and then it would be accompanied by the sweet feminine pitches of an Italian. If it wasn't German, he was harassed with lofty French vowels and thick heady Spanish "amigo"s.

That had lasted for about two weeks.

The knocking had become less frequent after that. The deep German became less worried and more impatient and angry. The sweet Italian became sobs of distress. The French vowels stopped calling through the door and the Spanish "amigo"s were replaced with a basket of fresh tomatoes which he threw out the window to the street below.

No one came to his door anymore.

Until now.

_KNOCK KNOCK!_

Gilbert lifted his head away from the wall before letting it fall back, a heavy _thud_ sounding. He just wanted that damn sound to stop and for more beer. He suddenly felt ill and forced it down. His eyes were heavy and his face numb. He cursed with clenched teeth as he felt the tears begin to fall.

It was all that damn door's fault.

No.

It was all her fault.

It was always her fault.

_CRACK!_

Gilbert watched at the door slammed open, the locks shattering under the force. It slammed against the wall behind it. He watched the boot clad foot lower, as if it hadn't just kicked the shit out of his door.

Damn he needed a beer.

Those simple black boots made their way across the wood flooring. They didn't thud heavily like his did or like his brothers. They barely made a sound at all. Those boots were attracted to denim clad legs, long and lush but about as blurry as everything else Gilbert could see.

He looked away, deciding to ignore the intruder in favor of glaring at the bottle graveyard. It was their fault for being empty.

"Get up."

It wasn't deep German nor sweet Italian. It wasn't lofty French vowels, no thick "amigo". It was cold, crisp and quiet. There was no concern or anger or hurt in that voice. Just strict command.

"F'k off." Gilbert slurred, glaring at the light flooring the door from the open doorway.

"Get up, Gilbert. _Now_."

He gritted his teeth and felt the urge to comply swell within his stomach. He never took orders from anyone. Not his father, not his little brother, not her, not anybody. But goddamn was this one convincing.

Sluggish and clumsy, the white haired male shifted his feet underneath him and with the assistance of the wall, rose to his feet.

But not because he was told to.

There was beer in the kitchen and he wanted it.

His feet dragged over the wood as he made his way toward his only relief.

Fingers wrapped into the back of his shirt and pulled. He grunted as he was shoved roughly into the wall he had taken residence at for the last eleven hours. Brilliant amethyst eyes glared at him behind a pair of thin wire frames.

"_Enough_." The woman hissed.

Her butter blond hair was loose, he noted, as he traced the curls draping around her face.

"We're going. _Now._" She commanded once more as she fisted the front of his shirt.

She was wearing red. She always wore red.

Liz never wore red. She liked green.

Gilbert shoved her hand aside.

"F'k off." He slurred once more, attempting to slip past her without falling on his face.

That fist slammed into his cheekbone, throwing his head to the side and his body back into the wall.

"_Enough_, Gilbert. This has gone far enough. You're a damn coward and I'm sick of it." She hissed.

"Wha da you know, huh? Jus lemme 'lone, damnit!" Gilbert tried to shout but the air it require to sustain consciousness and yell at the same time was too much for him right now. God, the only thing keeping him on his feet was the wall and her fist in his shirt.

"What don't I know, huh Gil? What? The fact that you've loved her for five years? The fact that you've always been by her side? The fact that no matter what you did, she never looked your way? Or is it the fact that she's in love with someone else? The fact that she's marrying _him_ and _not_ _you?_ Is that what I don't know?" She demanded, both hands fisted in his shirt now.

She smelled like soil and sugar. Sweet like caramel or molasses. Her lips were pale pink. God she was really close and she smelled really good.

Gilbert glared through the fresh tears. She didn't know. She didn't have a clue what he was feeling. What he was trying to suppress.

"Well guess what, Gil. I _do_ know. I know exactly how that is. To love someone so much you'd do anything to see them smile or make them laugh. You'd pull every star from the sky to keep that person from crying. I know how it feels to love so unconditionally and watch as they love someone else. I know what it's like but I don't hid away in the dark drinking myself to oblivion. I'm not a coward and neither are you, Gil."

There were tears in her eyes. He watched a tears fall from her long eyelashes and fall onto her cheek. It then slid down, lower and lower, closer to his pink lips. He leaned forward catching the tear with his lips.

He felt her own lips kiss the corner of his mouth, catching a tear of her own.

"Come on, Gil. It's time to go home." She slung his arm over her shoulders, holding firm to his side to support him. Gilbert let his head lull to the side, wishing he could just burrow into her warmth and never come out again.

"T'at vas really awesome, Birdie." He muttered, fingers tangling into her butter blonde curls.

"I don't want to hear that until you're sober, idiot." She replied gently, squeezing him against her side.

Why hadn't he noticed how soft she was before?

Oh well. He had time now. He couldn't drink anymore so he'd spend his time studying his Birdie.

Mattie was way more awesome than Liz anyway.

**Disclaimer: I Own Nothing! © Hidekaz Himaruya and GENTOSHA COMIC INC.**

07/13/11


	22. America & England: No Cotton

America & England: No Cotton (Or any material for that matter) 

Fem!America – Allison

England – Arthur

As soon as the door was closed, Allison dropped her bag onto the floor. Her hands began disassembling the messy bun of golden locks as she toed off her sleek black heels. After the last bobby pin was removed, she began ripping off the tall stockings clinging like skin to her calves. She curled her toes in the soft carpet as she made her way through the living room of her apartment toward the bedroom. She quickly unbuttoned her blazer and threw it over the back of the armchair.

The only light in the bedroom was the lamp resting on a small table beside the bed. Allison didn't bother with the light switch as she fought with the buttons of her dress shirt. Soon the top was flung across the room, along with her skirt. Left in only her knickers, the girl grabbed her hair brush off the dresser and began to run it through the hairspray-stiffened curls.

Sighing with great relief the girl slipped the straps of her bra to the sides of her shoulders and reached back toward the clasp.

The sound of china shattering on hard tile filled the small apartment.

The blond girl turned in curious surprise toward the kitchen doorway.

Arthur, her boyfriend of three months, stood with his back to the kitchen light, jaw lax and one of his favorite cups broken at his feet.

"W-w-w-wha…"

The girl watched with amusement as hot red flooded from under the collar of his shirt up his neck, over his cheeks and into his hairline. He couldn't form a coherent word, his green eyes wide and his bushy eyebrows knitted in stunned confusion.

How cute, Allison thought with a giggle. Cheeks flushing a light pink of embarrassment, the girl returned her hands to her bra.

"Sorry for the surprise, baby. I just couldn't stand being in these clothes another minute. I get so claustrophobic."

**Disclaimer: I Own Nothing! © Hidekaz Himaruya and GENTOSHA COMIC INC.**

**06/12/11**


	23. Russia & Canada: Untouchable Part One

Russia & Canada: Untouchable (Part One) 

Fem!Russia – Vasya

Canada – Matthew

Ugly, disgusting things, Vasya sneered as she shoved the bouquet of red roses into a trashcan. She hated roses. Why couldn't those _pidaras_ understand that? Every week it was a different man with the same stupid lines and she same stupid ugly roses. They couldn't even be considered flowers! They were unnatural, they came in weird colors and they smelled bad. Women who enjoyed them were just as artificial and stupid as the roses.

A heavy cloud settled around the woman as she marched away from the trashcan and the poor fool who dared confess to her.

Vasya was a beautiful woman, renown throughout the city. She was tall and curvy with long beige colored hair. Her skin was pale and smooth and her lips were soft and pink. Her accent was heavy and she was exotic and foreign. She was confident and independent, aloof and unapproachable. Untouchable. Nearly every man within her building had mustered the courage to ask her on a date only to be turned down. Men throughout the city had confessed their love to her only to be blatantly rejected. When she went out, she drank suitors into debt and then left them hanging. And mercy to the fools who come baring roses.

"E-excuse me."

The voice was so soft, Vasya almost didn't hear it. But thankfully, the voice had knocked before speaking, drawing the woman's attention to the doorway of her office. At first, she saw nothing and frowned. Was someone playing a trick on her? Did someone even have the nerve? And then she spotted her most precious love.

Sunflowers.

There were four long stocks with beautiful blooming flowers, tied together with a simple red ribbon. Just below the ribbon was a pair of hands, shaking as they clasped the stocks with great care. She followed the hands to a pair of wrists, then a pair of elbows. When her eyes reached the shoulders, she began to make out the brown suit and red necktie. Then wavy golden blond hair that reached the shoulders. Vasya studied the simple face of the – decidedly – male. He had a small nose and long eyelashes. His eyes were blue, though they were hidden behind a pair of simple wire-frame glasses. He wasn't much and Vasya knew she would have never noticed him if not for the sunflowers in his hands.

"Yes? Can I help you?" Vasya's voice was icy and firm, very formal and businesslike.

"F-forgive me if I interrupted you but um, I-I t-thought you might, uh, l-like these." The boy stumbled over his words and then his own feet as he stepped forward to present the lovely flowers. He blushed red at his own clumsiness, eyes darting down with embarrassment. He jumped like a little rabbit when the beautiful woman giggled.

How adorable he was, Vasya thought as she watched him. Unlike her other suitors, this boy was tall and lanky, terribly cute and very uncertain. He looked ready to run away at any sudden movement, much like a rabbit or bird. Most men who approached her were either arrogant or put on a false confidence. She was always able to tear them down to size. But this boy was already trembling with fear and uncertainty. How could she bring herself to further humiliate the man, especially when he came baring sunflowers?

Vasya gracefully stood from her seat and rounded her desk. With a smile, she took the bundle of flowers from him. She brought a blossom to her nose and inhaled the sweet earthy scent. Sunflowers were flowers in the truest sense. They were like suns that grew from the ground, radiating warmth and light.

"Zank you." She said kindly. "Vhat is your name?"

"Ma-Matthew, ma'am. I'm from Office Management." He introduced himself quickly, stumbling only once. He glanced down at his hands, which were ringing themselves nervously. He swiftly shoved them behind his back, blushing.

Vasya studied him a bit more before she finally recognized him. Yes, he was from the Office Management department. She had seen him now and then on the floor, delivering mail and changing light bulbs and such. Of course, she had never put much thought into remembering him.

"E-heh!" Vasya giggled. "Matvey, we go on date, da?"

"EH?"

Vasya giggled again as she went to fetch her long coat, snuggling into the fur collar as she buttoned it closed. She then took the man's hand in hers and with a smile, headed out of her office and toward the elevators.

"Matvey bring me sunflowers. We go on date, da?" she said once more as she hit the button for the elevator. The boy was stammering over his words, trying to form a proper answer. The woman frowned. She mustered up a pout, willing her eyes to become wide and lightly teary. "Matvey does not vant date viz me?" she whispered, her voice trembling. She tugged at her hand, as if to pull away.

"O-Of course I want to!" Matthew shouted with a start, squeezing her hand firmly. He blushed bright red, ducking his head when he realized that everyone was looking their way. "I-I mean, I would be very honored if you would be willing to go on a d-date with me." he muttered softly, avoiding her eyes shyly.

Vanya smiled, trying to not to laugh.

"Da! We go zen!" She chirped as the doors slid open.

The Russian beauty smirked as she squeezed the man's hand, pulling him into the elevator. Her little Matvey was so adorable; she couldn't possibly let him slip away now.

Besides, he had given her sunflowers.

**Disclaimer: I Own Nothing! © Hidekaz Himaruya and GENTOSHA COMIC INC.**

**06/14/11**


	24. Russia & Canada: Untouchable Part Two

Russia & Canada: Untouchable (Part Two) 

Fem!Russia – Vasya

Canada – Matthew

"Look at him. Who does he think he is?"

"He's not man enough for her. He doesn't deserve her attention."

"Smug little bastard. He looks like a girl."

Vasya felt her lips stretch into a thin smile. Rage was boiling her blood and she felt ready to kill someone. Particularly the three little _pidaras_ nearby who had the nerve to insult her beloved Matvey. It had been barely a few weeks ago that the little blonde man from Office Management had appeared in her doorway baring sunflowers. She was very happy with her Matvey. He was the sweetest, most considerate little thing she had ever seen. He was soft spoken and easy to manipulate but he had a passion hidden beneath that shy personality. She loved pushing him until he snapped. He was adorable when he cried but he was so sexy when he was angry. It made her want to eat him up.

Matvey was her precious treasure and she wouldn't stand for anyone to insult him.

"Matvey, fetch me a drink, da?" She asked sweetly, squeezing his elbow ever so slightly. Nodding, the blonde man excused himself before making his way through the crowd toward the refreshments. Vasya kept her eyes on the back of his head as she slowly stepped back toward the three men who had spoken ill of her date.

"If you dare say another vord about my Matvey, you vill find yourselves beneath several feet of vater. But it vill be a blow to ze 'ead that kills you."

Vasya looked over her shoulder only to affirm that they understood, sheer terror overtaking their features. She laughed softly as she stepped away from them, making her way toward her beloved sunflower. She frowned once more, however, when she spotted him.

The poor thing had been swarmed by some of the young single women attending the party. They were all much shorter than him, dressed in their skimpy, cheap dresses, trying to tempt every man in the room with their skin and lack of charm. They were like those ugly roses Vasya hated and they were making a move on her Matvey.

"Matvey."

The young man looked up in attention. He was like a little puppy, devoted and obedient to his master. When he spotted her, he shyly excused himself and made his way toward her as quickly as he could. He offered her a drink. She took it and his as well, shoving them at one of the girls who had followed him.

"I vish to leave now." She stated firmly.

"I'm sorry. Are you tired? Shall I get the car?" Matthew asked, genuine concern forming on his face. Vasya hid her smile. This boy was far too open with his emotions, far too honest. That's what made him so easy to manipulate.

"Het, I am not tired. But I do not vish to stay. Valk viz me?"

Nodding, the man offered her his arm. She hugged it gracefully, smirking.

No one was allowed to insult her Matvey. No one was allowed to steal her Matvey.

**Disclaimer: I Own Nothing! © Hidekaz Himaruya and GENTOSHA COMIC INC.**

**06/14/11**


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